


Suds

by Rocky_T



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 10:57:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: Tom discovers that 'happily ever after' doesn't have to mean you never have any more fun.





	Suds

**Author's Note:**

> All Seema's Fault. Again. I swear, I don't know how she makes me do this. 
> 
> Originally written and posted March 2004.

"And so," Tom said, laughing so hard it was difficult to get the words out, "Harry's leaning over to kiss the girl when all of the sudden, poof! she's a--COW!"

"You mean the kind with four legs?" asked the man on the next bar stool. "Talk about a 'mooing' experience..."

Tom wiped the tears out of his eyes and took a deep breath. "I couldn't tell if it was mooing or not, Charlie, because Harry was bellowing so loud!"

"I'll bet he did!" said one of the other patrons, who was wearing a baseball cap emblazoned with the logo of the now-defunct London Kings. "The famous Harry Kim kissing a cow? I would've loved to have seen this!"

A murmur of agreement swept around the bar and some of the customers banged their mugs on the counter and called for another round.

"That's a great story, Tom," said Charlie, as he emptied his fourth--or was it his fifth?--beer. "I love all your holodeck adventures, but this one's the best of 'em all."

"Oh, I don't know about that," said the Kings fan. "How about the time Captain Proton and Buster Kincaid were trapped in the cave of the Leopard Women?"

"Yeah, you should have seen the look on Harry's face when the Hunt Mistress got him cornered!" Tom said, laughing again. He took a swig from his own overly full mug, paying no attention to the foam slopping down the sides.

"That Harry Kim must be a real character," the bartender chimed in. "How come you never bring him by the place, Tom, let us get to meet him in the flesh?"

"I'd love to, Dick, but Harry's a busy man these days. He's a rising star in Starfleet, on the fast track to a ship of his own one day." Tom's smile faded a little as he recalled how long it had been since he'd last seen his friend, and how much longer since he'd any fun like in the old days. "Yeah, he's too busy saving the galaxy to spend much time in these parts."

"Well, if Starfleet ever gives him a day off, you be sure to bring him by, you hear?" Dick held up a bottle. "Have another drink, Tom? A shot to go with your beer?"

Tom hesitated--he'd already had quite a bit to drink--then grinned. "Sure. You buying, Dick?"

"Heck, why not. You deserve something for providing such entertaining company all evening long."

Tom accepted the glass of whiskey, then hoisted it high. "Here's to good friends, old and new!"

"Hear, hear!" said a chorus of voices above the sounds of clinking glass.

"And long may we--" Tom broke off as he caught sight of the chronometer. "Kahless, is that the time? I should've been home hours ago!"

"What's the matter, Tom?" asked Charlie with a grin. "The little woman waiting up for you?"

"Yeah," said Tom, lurching somewhat unsteadily to his feet. "With a ba'atleth by her side."  
***

Tom squinted under the streetlight, trying to make out the markings on the keypad by the front door. It took a few attempts, but he finally managed to punch in the correct code. The door opened, and he entered silently. Or attempted to; he tripped over a stuffed targ in the foyer, and nearly went sprawling, but caught himself in time. His elbow slammed into the mantel piece and he let out a muffled yelp. An antique vase, stuffed with tissue paper flowers Miral had made for Mother's Day in kindergarten last year, trembled, but didn't fall.

Tom rubbed the sore spot and took a deep breath. A drink of water to get the unpleasant aftertaste of his last beer out of his mouth--funny how it was always the last one that lingered so--and then he'd creep upstairs and hopefully get into bed without waking B'Elanna.

He took a few steps into the dimly lit kitchen and wrinkled his nose at the smell of rancid grease and burned onions that greeted him. _Must have been stew for dinner again_ , he thought absently, or maybe something fried. A glance at the dirty dishes haphazardly strewn on the table and along the counter tops confirmed his guess. 

"Geez, she couldn't even put them in the recycler?" he muttered. And then he remembered that the recycler had broken a few days ago and until the new parts arrived, they'd been forced to clean the dishes the old-fashioned way. Probably the sink was overflowing, too, or with his luck the drain was clogged---

Making his way forward in bad light, Tom didn't notice the large bucket in the center of the floor until it was too late.

"Holy shit!" he bellowed as he stepped squarely into the center of the bucket, lost his balance, and came crashing down on his back, hard, in a splash of cold, soapy water. Without warning, the kitchen ceiling above him exploded into bright light, temporarily blinding him.

"Aah!" He threw up his arms to shield his eyes and inadvertently splashed some of the gritty, foul-smelling liquid on the floor into his face. "Oof!" he cried an instant later when something hard prodded him in the stomach.

Blinking rapidly, he made out the image of a looming figure waving a bright object in his face. "B'Elanna?" he croaked.

"Who else did you expect it to be?" she asked, pulling the point of her ba'atleth away from his neck. "And what do you think you're doing, sneaking in here like that in the middle of the night?"

"I live here, remember?" Tom said with a groan. 

"Not recently, you haven't, if the amount of time you spend at home is any guide. Thomas Eugene Paris, where have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Tom groaned. "I'll tell you, but would you mind removing your foot from my stomach first?"

"Oh, sorry." 

Tom breathed easier with her weight off him. "I, uh, had a meeting that ran late. Very late."

She gave him a skeptical look. "What were you doing creeping in like a burglar?" she demanded.

"I didn't want to wake you up!" he said in exasperation.

"And you were just so successful," B'Elanna said angrily. "You're damn lucky you didn't wake up the kids! I had a terrible time getting them to settle down this evening. The baby's been sick all day and--"

"So that's your excuse for leaving this place looking like a pigsty?" Tom said, losing his temper in turn and glaring up at his wife. "I work hard all day while you're sitting at home, and yet you expect me to--"

"I work very hard all day, too, staying home with _your_ children!" B'Elanna shrieked. "How about you try it and let's see how well you do, Mister!"

Tom rapidly changed the subject. "Well, what's the idea of booby-trapping the place? Are you trying to kill me?"

"I'm not trying to kill you!" B'Elanna gestured with the ba'atleth still in her hand, the blade swinging a little too close to Tom's head for his comfort. "Miral spilled a bowl of soup and I was going to wash the floor, when the baby woke up again and I had to rush upstairs to take care of him. I ended up lying down with him till he fell back asleep."

"And in the meantime fell asleep yourself and forgot you left the bucket out," Tom finished wearily. Realizing he was still lying on the floor, he attempted to get up. "Well, I guess that's understand--whoops!"

His right foot still firmly stuck inside the bucket, Tom lost his balance and crashed forward. Unfortunately, he fell against B'Elanna, knocking them both to the floor.

"Kahless!" screamed B'Elanna as she fell. "Ouch!"

"B'Elanna?" Tom said as he attempted to roll off her, but only succeeding in tangling up their legs even more. From her continued yelps of pain, he thought he might have banged her in the shins once or twice.

She wriggled out from under him, or tried to. "I'm all right, Tom. I think. Here, move your--what's the matter?"

"Where's the ba'atleth?" he asked quietly.

"Uh, I must have dropped it--" B'Elanna craned her neck to look over her shoulder. "Yeah, there it is over that way." 

Tom lifted his head and saw it standing straight up, embedded in the floor a few feet away, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Are you hurt?" B'Elanna asked, concern replacing the annoyance on her face. "Hmm, you've got a nasty bruise forming on your--"

"Let's try to get up," he said shortly, "on the count of three. One, two, three--"

"Oof!" she said as her elbow slipped out from under her, causing her to lose her balance and cause them both to crash down once more, this time with her on top. "Sorry, sorry. Here, maybe if I try to get up first, or if we just pull that stupid bucket off your foot--" She broke off abruptly as Tom doubled over and started to shake. "Tom! Tom, what is it? Oh, no, you're going into convulsions!"

Tom grabbed her arm. "No, I'm fine! B'Elanna--" He took a deep breath, but once more was laughing too hard to talk. 

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Would you look at us?" he said. He flailed his arms in the air. "Here we are, lying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night, covered in soapy, filthy water and God knows what else--and you say this isn't funny?"

"It's pathetic, that's what it is," she said. "Do you realize this is the first in I don't know how long we've spent any quality time together--without arguing or fighting?" 

"Oh, is that what we're doing?"

B'Elanna's lips twitched. Then, her eyes meeting his, she was soon howling as well.

Tom didn't know how long they lay there; every time one of them began to calm down, all it took was to feel the other one laughing to set them off again. Finally, they were both still. He rolled over and turned her face toward his.

"Tom?" she questioned softly.

"Mm-hmm," he said, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her throat.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"I _know_ what you're doing," she said, with a hint of exasperation. "What I mean is, why are you doing that here?"

"I'm here, so are you," he said working his way further down, past the loose opening of her robe. "Got any better suggestions?"

"Actually, I do," she whispered, moving her hands under the cold, clingy fabric of his shirt. "We could go upstairs, to our nice comfortable bed. Or if you still want to play in the suds, we could fill up the tub and have a nice bubble bath..."

"Sounds good," he breathed. "But there's just one little problem."

"What's that?"

"We'll have to get up first, and I'm not quite sure I can. I think I did something to my knee on that last fall."

"Well, do you want to lie here all night, until Miral comes downstairs for breakfast?"

Tom quickly shook his head. "You're right, you're right. OK, you get up first."

Cautiously, B'Elanna heaved herself up and by holding on to the ba'atleth (still stuck in the floor, but no longer quivering), she was able to keep her balance. Then she helped him extricate his foot from the bucket and stand. And slowly, the two of them began making their way toward the stairs.

"A hot bath sounds very good now," Tom said. He stopped, noticing the odd look on B'Elanna's face. "What's wrong?"

"The kitchen!" B'Elanna exclaimed. She gestured around the room, now in greater disarray than when Tom had first come in. "We can't just leave it this way?"

"Yes, we can," Tom said firmly. "Trust me, B'Elanna, it'll still be here in the morning."


End file.
